


You Can Keep What's Yours

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Jack doesn't reciprocate the Fearlings' feelings, Kidnapping, Other, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 14:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20819219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "In the AMV with Pitch and Jack set to the song Skullcrusher Mountain (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4SFI1_ev6U), there is one bit that goes “the voices that control me from inside my head/Say I shouldn’t kill you yet”, and in the book, Kozmotis Pitchiner is consumed by fearlings to become Pitch.I’d like to see a line that runs with that, where the fearlings are the voices inside his head, and they want Jack alive and inside Pitch’s lair.Maybe they find him fascinating, or maybe they love him in the twisted way nightmares could love their victims. Maybe they just want to keep him. Whatever anon decides would be great.Non/dub-con is perfectly acceptable, but I would love to see Pitch trying to court a captive Jack, even if only at first.Bonus points if:-the fearlings try to help Pitch court Jack, or try to court him themselves...[cut for length]"Pitch is still the boogeyman, but he gets his powers from the fearlings that possess him. Usually they aren’t unified enough to exert any control over Pitch’s body, but in the case of Jack, that changes. From the perspective of Jack going “WTF” but actually really horrifying when you think about it.





	You Can Keep What's Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 11/4/2016.
> 
> Here's the rest of the prompt: "...-there are some bits of Kozmotis’s personality left, and we get to see a little bit of a struggle between what the fearlings want and what the Kozmotis parts of Pitch want"

Jack wasn’t sure what to make of all this. A few hours ago, Pitch had ambushed him as he was flying, wrapping him up in nightmare sand and pulling him down into his lair. On the way there, Pitch had said all kinds of things that were partly what Jack expected from Pitch, partly what he expected from a sort of generic Bond villain, and partly flirtatious. Right before locking him in his room or cell or whatever it was, Pitch had even petted his face. Jack grimaced and scrubbed at his cheek thinking of it.  
  
That would have all been awkward and worrying enough, but then things had gotten even stranger. Pitch had left, then, promising to “be back soon” in a tone that was most likely intended to be sultry. When he did return, however, he entered Jack’s room extremely stiffly, barely approached him at all, and apologized for the inconvenience. “This is no part of what I want to do,” he had said. “Excuse me, but I will leave you here while I figure out what to do.” And then he had left.  
  
“There are a lot of ways this could be worse,” Jack said to himself as he tested the walls and door for any weaknesses. “But being locked up in Pitch’s lair while Pitch himself experiences vast and inexplicable mood swings isn’t super great, I would say.” The walls and door held firm, but Jack was pretty sure he heard a sympathetic whinny from outside. “Okay,” Jack said to the nightmare outside, “but, still, you’re not his enemy.”  
  
Jack thought he was establishing a real rapport with the nightmare when all of the sudden it stopped responding. He had time to wonder about this only for a moment before Pitch opened his door.  
  
Jack stepped back and drew his hands up, ready to fight in any way he had to even though his staff had been taken from him. Pitch, however, didn’t seem inclined to enter the room at all. He leaned against the doorframe, and it didn’t look like he was doing that for effect. He looked like he needed the support.  
  
“I’m possessed,” Pitch said, with the unmistakable articulation of the very drunk.  
  
“What?” Jack actually relaxed a little; the statement and Pitch’s state were so unrelated to everything else that had happened so far that day.  
  
“Fearlings,” Pitch said. “You don’t—you don’t know what they are. Not physical. Not really real. I mean, you couldn’t kick one. But they’re real. Got millions of ‘em. Give me my powers. Long story. But they took me because I was there. It was a really bad time. They had some goals, all the same goals, I couldn’t do anything. But it wasn’t long before they started arguing. So, I got their powers then but I didn’t have to listen to them because one fearling can’t make you do anything, and neither can a million if they all want different things. Like air molecules, or something.”  
  
Jack had the disturbing mental image of Pitch’s body as filled with nothing but tiny Fearlings, whatever they were, like some kind of skinny balloon of evil. “Um, thanks for telling me?”  
  
“No! That wasn’t the point.” Pitch swayed over to lean against the other side of the doorframe. “Only certain kinds of things I can do with my powers. Being the boogeyman. It’s okay. I’m used to it. Mostly. But now the fearlings all see you. And they like you! And they want to—to _leave_ me for you! What would I do without them? They’ve been with me for thousands and thousands of years!” Pitch sounded genuinely heartbroken.  
  
“I…uh…you can have them,” Jack said uncertainly. “I really mean that. I don’t want to take your fearlings from you.”  
  
Pitch gave him a wobbly smile. “Thanks,” he said. “That means—that means a lot to me. But you’re good, so I thought you’d say that. That’s why I got drunk. Fearlings still don’t really understand physical bodies. They don’t know what to do when I get them drunk. So.” He paused, and carefully pressed himself against the doorframe, leaving as much space as possible for someone to pass by him. “You should probably go while I’m still drunk. And try to figure out a solution for…all this as soon as possible. Fearlings are very persistent, and they probably won’t let me get drunk again.” Pitch looked blearily at Jack. “Don’t worry. You can walk by me. It’s actually more difficult that it sounds to get possessed…but I know you wouldn’t like it.”  
  
“Okay, sure,” Jack said, warily approaching the door. “I’ll…just ask one of the nightmares where my staff is, then?”  
  
Pitch nodded. “They know better than I do, at this point. But you will remember what I said, won’t you?”  
  
“About the fearlings? Definitely,” Jack said. “Who could forget the boogeyman being genuinely terrifying?”  
  
Pitch smiled at him again, and that was the last Jack saw of him before racing off to the nightmares. He still wasn’t sure what to make of all this, but he really hoped it would at least stop getting worse.


End file.
